Prayers Never Go Unheard

Posted in Stories and reviews by Kathy Da Silva with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 25, 2018 by kathydasilva

I have had such a deep sense of purpose for about twenty-four hours, as a result of hearing the news and developments about the treatment of a toddler of two at the hands of medical professionals practicing in England in the Alder Hey Children’s Hospital in Liverpool, Alfie Evans. I myself had an accident two years ago now this month, that took me into the care of the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel. I have noticed two things over the years the Tories have been in power, which is to my amazement, they seem such an unfriendly party, to even contemplate a vote in their direction fills me with horror, but, there has been an unprecedented building or re-building program going on. Middlesex Hospital ( a new building) had me in as a patient with a hernia operation same day surgery. Royal London is in a new building, and some parts of this building are hardly used and not staffed yet. UCH, has a new building. So that is about three major London hospitals to have absolutely new buildings, and of course they cost money. The money that might have been spent I guess on staff. The planning of the expenses of these hospitals is what needs further scrutiny. Doctors, surgeons are being asked to perform operations, for hour upon hour, all within a certain period of time, one after the other after, another. The surgeries for the ‘consultation’ period of attendance are lengthy and usually you have to wait around for an afternoon at least about two or three hours for all the checks, X-Rays, and then the meet with the surgeon to see what is going to be done in preparation mentally as well as in a practical way for the treatment. The medical staff as a whole are very good, mostly at their manner with patients, but, I did feel, on the last occasion a little bit like being on a conveyor belt, and was very glad when the surgery was all over, and I went home. I guess, there are two ways of seeing this. Either you buy medical private care, or possibly be victim of a organization, which has been stretched beyond itself, and budget.
Alder Hey Children’s Hospital is in a new building in a park. I wonder who managed the budget. How much pressure might have been on that individual? I also would not trust a Conservative member of parliament with the money paid for the NHS.
I fear mistakes are being made in diagnosis. I fear that the sacredness of our own humanity is at risk. A little boy of two has as much right to life as an adult. But, because of his age, and inability to speak for himself, he is at risk of being ‘talked over’, prodded, and assessed without recourse to the outcome, and how ‘he’ feels. He is no less a human being than the bus-man or train driver, but, because he is too young to be assessed on ‘usefulness’, what is happening, is a simple ignorance of how wonderful this little patient is as a whole. All life is sacred, we should never forget that.
The treatment of Alfie Evans, will stay with me for a long time. If I were in the hospital I would want my child fed, regularly, even if his life has become somewhat limited, this could be temporary. St Theresa of Avila, had a fever, which rendered her like a victim of a stroke, she barely could raise a finger, but after the worst of the fever passed, her strength returned, after much prayer, much saying of the Credo, and the Our Father, Glory Be, and prayers of faith. I am one who does believe in the phenomena of the ‘miracle’. Light over Dark. We do battle for our loved ones, it occurs daily, but, many times, over, I forget how tough this battle is, and how lazy I have got about prayer. But, I pray now for Alfie Evan’s healing. Lord let the victory be Yours. Amen.
I am writing this, knowing, every minute in the next two or three days is going to count in the saving of a life. The saving of Alfie is what the next twenty-four hours is going to be about. Both parents have tried to legally regain some control over what happens with their baby. I believe them, entirely that the little one is doing well. That Alfie knows his father and mother’s faces, and he is able to see them. His eyes it is mentioned do dilate open and close to bright light. He can hear. He experiences sensation, but the doctors were trying to progress his demise, they were trying to beckon death upon this little baby. I do not think it normal that an institution that is essentially about healing is behaving in this terrible way. I cannot believe that the state has this little baby literally ‘hostage’ style and imprisoned. There is an air ambulance standing ready to take the toddler to Rome for treatment. The Pope himself, Pope Francis has offered to help Alfie, but the stubborn and evil law institution has grown frayed around the edges with this. The Law is not protecting the common man, and this is inherently wrong. Alfie is now an Italian citizen. And still this means nothing to that institution of the Law that is a fallacy of it’s own making. When laws do not protect the innocent, then we all know we are in trouble. So we must press for a change in the law, about families and their rights, and the rights of the individual who cannot speak for themselves.
I encourage debate, and comment.

I once read about the healing mission of an American woman called Catherine Kuhlman. “The greatest power that God has given to any individual is the power of prayer.” She had the gift of healing, and amazing things happened for those who asked God to enter their lives. Sometimes it is in the tragedy of illness, and trauma, that we are literally brought to our knees. I do it, I know other people who pray, and being humble enough to admit where we ourselves have failed to be good, and in our Catholic Church, we do say to God: Look not on our sins but the faith of your church. So yes, we all need to get our church to pray for Alfie and his parents. it will be the answer in the end to the ‘dead’ silence coming from Westminster currently… ‘deafening silence’.. considering the enormity of this event.  I myself understand being Catholic, but eerily it is looking like Theresa Mays affiliation with the DUP, are an exposition of what influences institutions today. I hope that the prejudice is removed soon. Let us hope all the Catholics in Liverpool light a candle and say a prayer for Alfie.

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Freedom to say what you think…..

Posted in Stories and reviews by Kathy Da Silva on March 26, 2018 by kathydasilva

Listening to LBC this morning, you would think the world was about to fall apart. Jesus at the time he lived looked back at the Jewish church of the time, and called it Satanic. He as Messiah was ignored by his own people. He was stapled to a cross, and just before that he had had to drag that cross up a hill to His final death. And before that  he had been told here is your crown, King of the Jews, and the item was a woven crown of thorns which was placed on His head and a purple cloak of cloth was placed around His shoulders. ‘Save Yourself’… yelled at Him. He is the Lamb  of God the prophesied Messiah, the humble carpenter’s son. He was of the Royal House of David. He is the answer to all our problems. The bible has already shown, that by Christ there is ‘no Jew or Gentile’ meaning God sees us all as His own. That is what counts. Nothing else will count.. and the judgement of our God will be just that. Jesus is the Redeemer. Nothing in the bible is a ‘waste of time’.

A Sample of ‘Driftwood’

Posted in Biography, education, Stories and reviews, Stories and reviews by Kathy Da Silva, writing with tags , , , , , , on January 1, 2018 by kathydasilva

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https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1207044

A while back, I got interested in trying to get people to look at my novel Driftwood, and perhaps say what they thought about it. So at createspace.com the little company that helps new authors get their work out there, they offer, a place to put a few pages, of preview of each novel, and you can get people to rate the text without them having to make purchase, should they not have the money or inclination. It in some ways gives you more than the cover sampler, and descriptions but, hopefully, it also makes a space for comments and criticism as both are needed when you first put your thoughts into a book. I am still working on other titles, and am hoping to steer my lifestyle in the direction of committing more time and energy, and make the most of the writing gift and interest I have particularly in creating fictions. We all draw from life, and though this is there somewhere in the text, I have deliberately kept the names and places more or less fiction based in all of my novels.

Just recently I was trying to check if other people had noticed my book, for example, and found lots of independent distributors, have got my title among there collections for sale globally, and as far now as Chile! But, too, other sites, have started playing with found PDF files, that maybe have been caught in transit, on the net. Some will describe this as a hack or rip, but, I have only so far placed any of my manuscripts with the Amazon group and affiliated companies. I started with originally http://www.feedaread.com and progressed to http://www.createspace.com the latter making it possible for Amazon distribution to be free from my point of view as author.  The above link is to http://www.createspace.com’s  review space. If people want to read a page or two of the book, you can do it here or look on the Amazon pages for a preview read experience..

One of the independent domain sites  (abouthistory.info), offered an entire manuscript as a PDF file, for free (to read on their tablets), and obviously, that means most people would see this as a way of reading the book without having to pay, but, to me, it was not the way I had permitted the book to be launched, or seen in public, together with the fact some of the text was not my story, it looked a little chopped about  in places, and sentences existed that were not anything to do with the story Driftwood. At this point you see me with my mouth turned downward in sorrow. This book has a message and has been written with good intentions to create discussion. We are living in troubled times globally, with too many wars and uprisings, happening, and always the innocent suffering.

My audio book, will soon be available too.

Thank You! .. Happy Holidays and please do go have a look.

The Reading Habit

Posted in Autobiography, Stories and reviews by Kathy Da Silva, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on December 22, 2017 by kathydasilva
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BOOKS

 

I guess, that perhaps it is only when we travel on a long journey that we now think of what to read, or when the ever playing TV manages to blow  a fuse, and that Hollywood is given a ‘rest’ for a few days, that a new book gets to being read and absorbed. I happened to be passing through a railway station, when  I noticed a little old fashioned bookcase, that normally would be inside someone’s bedroom or living space was placed in the waiting room. I was at Southampton train station, and on my way back to London. I could not resist a perusal of the rather near empty or scant collection on the shelves. A notice had been placed to advise people to use the ‘free’ donations of book, in a fashion that would mean a healthy supply always being there, but, no one obeys rules right? I also noticed a small tin with a slit in the top with the possibility of a donation being the answer, for use of books, so I donated a small amount of coin, but had no replacement for the one paperback I took to use for a reading book on board the train back to Waterloo. It was a ‘whodunit’ type book, based in the Lake District, among the fells and dales of Windermere and Peaks. New author Rebecca Tope’s The Troutbeck Testimony, starts like a book with a mystery, and rather predictably continues, with the suggestion of the drama within the first few pages, and onward. However, it still meant something to me, to read something about England. Something set in England, in a land and a place I might myself have actually traveled to. Yes a paperback, and not an e-book, though either would have been as satisfying when you are alone and a bit bored. The habit of reading being something under attack lately. I prefer it, if what I am reading catches me in some way, for its style or subject, and sometimes sheer brilliance. Every time Christmas comes round it is as if someone in a rather elevated position of employ selects a suitable family choice of films to cover the holiday period, and yet how often I notice that the same titles repeat almost too frequently, year in year out. The book market is such that the number of books already written and authors seeking new audience, are so many that a person could not run out of options. Stars that shine, however, might vary, and what is elixir for one is perhaps like sour grapes to another. Nothing beats classicism, but, a true original, the type that become of ‘cult’ status, well each year perhaps produces a few hopefuls. I crept backward through time recently to John Steinbeck and some of his titles like To a God Unknown, which to me is one of those trans-fomative story settings, taking you to a land of extremes where drought, and survival of those conditions produce a number of deliberations among the characters, and the cause of which takes them and their livestock, over the hills and into new situations, and therefore dramas, which then flow from that authors pen like oil from a new found seam. And I remember one winter, strolling the beach at Shanklin, beneath the sedimentary soft rocks of sandstone and chalk, with thoughts of the time and period when such things formed, and yet, therein drama can be found, or created. There was a very tiny bar set in among the cliff side, full of friendly people, it was Christmas. Yes there is a reason to feel helped too by seasonal change, as I always find winter the time to write and take in, and absorb.

Being back at Southampton, but, without my sister to visit, has been a bit sad, and over a lifetime of going to and fro from the town where I was born, and meeting with friends and mainly my close family, it now seems a bit empty, like an empty house, all the ‘birds’ flown. I have a brother, a brother-in-law, and a step dad, oh and a cousin or two and their families, but, nothing of the persons who I grew to an adult, with, and who knew me very much more intimately, than, anyone else. It would seem, I need to somehow, come half-way, in my own world of thoughts and needs, to satisfy, what eternally is placed in my heart, but also to allow my own soul, something of a place of restfulness. So summers, take me to places where such a thing happens often, with strolls on a beach, but, my winters too need to be, like the house set up in the mountains, with the fire ablaze in the hearth, and the lamps low lit, and that blessed little book case of things that need to be read.

Why War No More…

Posted in Current affairs, Poetry, politics, Stories and reviews, Stories and reviews by Kathy Da Silva, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 7, 2017 by kathydasilva

Traveling home tonight on the bus, I met a young man, who had his legs across from one seat to the seat opposite. It was at the time, when hardly any seats are free, I had ended up sitting next to him, but, he did explain that his leg had been injured, and therefore, he was resting it. He was from Afghanistan, and his story was amazing and awful, in one go. He lived with his brother, his brother, supposedly was looking after him. But, at twenty three, you would normally in this country be seeking some independence. He said, he was housed in with his brother, but, had no benefits, he looked disabled, but, was able to work a bit. He showed me his left arm, and it was not a good shape, apparently a bad mend to a broken arm, from a car accident in his native Afghanistan. His chest was partially caved in, too. He was slight and thin, and he told me he was very hungry. His brother, was supposed to be looking after his needs, but, it seemed he only afforded him one evening meal and that was something like a cheap chicken and chip take out. He worked for his brother on a building site, but, with no wage, only his living needs shelter and accommodation paid for, and £20 on a Oyster card. Is this a form of enslavement? I tried to give him some advice for his own sake, but too, his leg needed an X-ray. I hope he went onto the hospital. I came home, put a crumpet in the toaster, and felt sad and horrid and all those things, because, I believe he genuinely was hungry. It has become that bad, that the poorer people who travel by bus have taken to asking strangers for the odd pound or two to stay alive. It is time the Conservatives delved into their pockets for genuine change for the good.

I had just tried to catch something of the Craig Murray trial or pictures outside the Royal Courts of Justice today. Why is Jake Wallis Simons summoning, this wonderful human rights speaker to court? Why is trying to analyze world political situations creating such unease? Is someone afraid of the truth ‘leaking out’? The slow drip colander sifting through debris left by uneasy war cry in countries most of us have not frequented ever, and certainly would not think of as a holiday destination for some time to come. And yet, Afghanistan has a history, and there were good places to visit, and for what it is worth, overnight cultural historical sites are and have been demolished, and artifacts and wonders of ancient other ages, plundered. He spoke he said in Persian the boy on the bus. Who creates these uneasy wars? The war wounded are beginning to emerge, from behind the ruined walls. Craig Murray, often speaks on human rights issues. He was blogging about how Israel was destroying the homes of Palestinian residents, and stealing the land, for their own homes. I cannot see how it might seem right to do this thing. If someone decided to bulldoze my living quarters, I would be pretty traumatized, and devastated. I understand the need for calm though from the Israeli view point of wanting to maintain some semblance of a democratic society, amidst  a neighborhood of Arabic states who mainly have very dominant leaderships, and possibly to our western eyes, these seem like dictatorships as the countries do depict, their leaders on posters, like a kind of big brother approach, that the leader can see all that is going on at all times. Yes well done Israel, for maintaining the election systems. The Palestinian children, should be enjoying childhood however. I cannot condone, a system, that jails a juvenile, without the proper process. We do have juvenile courts in England, but, kids, who throw stones out of inherited hate, why are they ‘shot at’ with guns. Too much killing over land. The sale of arms to Arabs? Why anyone can justify this while watching Yemen’s children starve?

Yes what can Craig Murray possibly have said to Jake Wallis Simons of the Daily Mail. It all centered on the talk about the difference of the word Zionism, and Semetism.. two words really.. Zionism, is a slightly more modern, term, and possibly more secular in meaning, more about the state of Israel, than the inherited religion and it’s weight and value to the world. Yes, Holy Israel.. we would love you more if you spoke of your Messiah Jesus. That would be my personal wish. Humanism, versus faith religions. Is this whole argument a product of our modern age? I cannot see anything, wrong with good debate, there is no insult intended. Yet there the argument is, Craig thinking, like a lot of humanitarian people, that you cannot just stand by while one nation applies such damming force against another ‘tribe’, who after all, the other tribe, could be anyone. Jesus did say with the new Covenant that all that went previously  before, was changed. He was the pascal lamb, the last sacrifice required. The new Covenant is achieved already. All men can be free if they chose it. This though plain and simple is exactly the truth of our God. And be like little children who come unto Me, says God. I prefer to choose our loving God, Jesus. And all human troubles are the troubles we all have to live with. We after all are in an incomplete world if God is not with us. Heaven and earth will pass away and a new Heaven and a new Earth will be made in its place. Revelation. And still who bothers to now listen to the Word of God. In the beginning was the Word and the Word was God. It is the first line of the bible, and it always fascinates me. If all men have the right to be Holy, then, why is it that just one section of the world community cannot share that loving God? If the row between Craig Murray and Jake Wallis Simons is purely about racial origins? Craig makes the point that the Labour MP’s who have been brought up ‘sharp’ about their opinions, in the press, with the press ever trying to indict our Jeremy Corbyn with one accusation or another, one of which seems to be ‘antisemitism’. The suggestion is that if you ‘accuse’ Israel of anything but, fair play in politics, then you are being critical of the whole Jewish race. I think this is the argument. But, I am so mindful, of a book I read about the second world war. I am so mindful, because it genuinely disturbed me. There was something very noxious about the Nazi mentality. There was something so ‘corrupting’ about the forces at work, around that period of war. There was report of Germany encouraging Jewish people to return to their homeland, and be spared their lives, but, too, that they would be ‘allowed out of the country’ on some agreed conditions. The conditions economically benefited Germany. And something too, and this will sound terrible but, I must say it, that just suppose if Germany with its warrior spirit or the original planners of World War Two, who decided, that this was the way to control ‘us’ the caretakers of God’s word and creation, put among us some ‘terror’. And the ‘terror’ lets call the it a human, one with deceit written in his heart. This ‘terror’, would influence, the world to further wars, when it suited. But, this man, would not be honest not an honest person at all. People it is said are powerful if they have money or knowledge and sometimes both. The German fascists were genuinely terrified of a true God, because after all He could intervene, and inspire, courage and strength in the faithful. And God looked after our ‘rights’, our rights of passage. Our rights to life. Have you ever wondered why our age has become so material? There is something very flawed about our material obsessions. There is the side of me that says Israel is very brave, because it is situated in the midst of Arab lands on all sides. But, we have to show grace. We have to be better than any enemy, we cannot be found guilty of hurting ‘innocence’.  And this again is where Craig Murray holds up an argument of pure humanitarian concerns, with the people who are neighbors to Israel. And I hear from God …what if everyone could realize that they could reach to the heavens for forgiveness, and the love of God? What if the Good News ..got out? All transgressions forgiven, all can be saved should they turn to the Truth, but, and yes it will be, the doorway, is labelled with the glorious sign.

King of glory my Savior is His goodness faileth never. ..here is where you enter, Jesus says all can come but, they must come through Me…. the portal.

The Glenn Greenwald Experience

Posted in Current affairs, politics, Stories and reviews by Kathy Da Silva, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on September 19, 2017 by kathydasilva

 

This evening, I traveled to the Royal Society of Arts headquarters, London, to see David Miranda and his partner former Guardian, award winning, journalist Glenn Greenwald, talk about their experiences subsequent to the Snowden revelations, and their return to a country that had been out of their reach for about four years. Leading the discussion was Baroness Shami Chakrabarti, Shadow Attorney General and member of the House of Lords. This was quite a unique event, in that Glenn Greenwald, and his partner David Miranda, had been at the center of the most controversial of whistle-blows, possibly this side of the millennial change. Here we are in the twenty first century and, society has become tight lipped, and hidden. We behave like mice who have been put in a maze, with only certain doors open to us for expression. Tonight, was all but, an hour. A very short hour. Only enough time to cover essential facts, about the two courageous subjects, who for all the glory of the huge Snowden, story had become fugitives, unable to guarantee their own safe transition between one country or another, with possible threats to their freedom, and indictments hanging in the air, like lightning strikes.

It was, an emotional moment for the two of them. David Miranda’s own account vividly described to a live audience, who sat completely transfixed, as he described his nine hour ordeal at the hands of British GCHQ operatives, who bombarded him with questions and threats of incarceration. He had had to leave all his personal laptop and mobile phone equipment with the port at which he had arrived, hoping for an onward flight to Rio his final destination. He had decided to sit the nine hour ordeal, without taking food, or allowing a local British lawyer, to be brought in, for his knowledge of the law was such that a prisoner is only allowed one call to a lawyer. He was quick witted enough to remember this fact. His partner Glenn, had been called only after three hours of David’s detention to tell him where he was and when to expect his return. The talk and exchange lasted about half an hour, with question time from an audience only given twenty minutes. But, clearly the audience had an eager interest, in the whole topic of surveillance state, and Glenn’s book No Place to Hide, which now is in paperback and available through all good bookstores and online, was barely mentioned.

The audience questions were fast and flowing and surprisingly, dominated by women, who were keen to explore the subject of state intrusion and privacy on the internet. One person had said the net had been lost (they meant to the globalist agenda), well I hope not, I hope encryption will still make privacy possible again. There could be many worlds within worlds in computing. The Tor Project has proven, that I.D.’s can be scrambled, and therefore state intrusion kept out. I am in favor of invention with this respect.

I wondered that how all of this discussion was going on, in a building, which had association with ‘royalty’. Something of an institutional background with the whole room, covered in painting from a classical past, that, had me thinking, how distracting particularly because one of the paintings had quite a lot of semi undressed ‘gods’, and nymphs dancing about in a country scene. And then again, what a perfect simmering down from the ‘high’ alert that the two men, had had to endure for four years. Why is it journalists revealing big stories, become, vilified, for their efforts?

My friend from the Assange vigil Emmy, stood up to ask some questions, at the end, and became quite emotional. She is a Greek citizen, who now lives in Britain, with her family. She is someone who, takes an active interest in politics in general, but, also particularly in her country of origin. Her point was to emphasize, the how we as a world community have become entangled with Amercan NSA surveillance and sometimes, without much discussion. That the prime minister of Greece had found his own phone tapped by the NSA/CIA and had been threatened, and made to leave his job, during the time of the Greek Olympic year, 2004. His family had been literally kidnapped, and his hand forced. The citizens of Greece had been victims surveillance by the NSA initially for security during the Olympics, but the surveillance had continued for nine months afterward, when it should have come to an end. The publication of this fact, had only just recently come to light, and it was indeed Pierre Omidyar’s, The Intercept, who Glenn Greenwald writes for,  that had brought it to her and the public’s attention. So much has been occurring, in all of the European countries,  with regard to a tightening security grip, without public knowledge. Baroness Shami Chakrabarti, whilst on the whole did a splendid job of presentation, could not handle, the emotions being, poured out at the end of the talk with Glenn Greenwald and his partner David Miranda. In fact it slightly became frustrating, that not enough was discussed due to the small amount of question time.

I am pleased to have seen Glenn Greenwald live tonight and indeed to have listened to David Miranda tell of  his involvement in the Snowden revelations. I wished we could have had more time! Why no signing of his books??.. I was hopeful to get my hard back copy signed!

 

 

 

The Incomprehensible!

Posted in Autobiography, Biography, Stories and reviews by Kathy Da Silva, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 10, 2017 by kathydasilva

I have it is true a fascination for learning about computing, but, so far, the more I have delved, the worse, the old software/ computer, becomes and now I have found most of my files, sitting on my USB software files, as if it is a memory stick! Not actually on the stick part, but, inside the software on the computer? Well, update time, is due, and perhaps a change of machine. I am thinking, now, that not much is safe these days if held somewhere in transit on the internet either. Oh hail the old typewriter, for it was only the business of words to worry about, and I completely understand Will Self, for treating the whole business of internet as a thoroughly annoying distraction too.

I seem drowned in fear of ‘invasion’, however, and whatever, form, it might take, for my thoughts are precious , even if others, may think they are not. Privacy became an issue in all the debate about state surveillance, and the machine, the main culprit being the computer and its software, the main net, literally.  Glenn  Greenwald is about to come and talk in England, hooray! It took some time, and probably a vat full of courage, to tread on our soil again. I hope, we all are there, and overflowing with some appreciation for his wonderful efforts and writing. The new book, idea I had a week ago for publishing my blog pages, the ones I had to take off, are nearly ready to upload, but, I want to add some other pieces, and illustrate, the cover, maybe with some cartoon art. And progressively, I have been moving toward, some more art and essay work.

Sundays for me now are about keeping my sanity over, the whole thing of change, and adjustment. My sister, Alison, died two years ago, from motor neurons, and it is only now, that the absence of her calls, letters, and family moments, at Christmas, has begun to sink in. I had a tearful moment last Christmas, but, I have progressed through this year, surprisingly more focused than, the year in which she passed. And am about ready to get back to the main chunk of Storm.  Autumn is my favorite time, and we the ‘English’ can get back to our classrooms and are educative processes. The rigor of all that is ‘usual’.  It is like a gift the way I am feeling now. When I went to art school in Winchester, there were earlier memories, accompanying me, and the historical element of the buildings, and the earthy nature, almost suggested within the  building fabric especially the churches, and the courtyard flagstones. The town, is a true scale of what a person, can endure, without feeling lost. Such happy memories of sitting eating tea with my father as Alison tried for entrance for St Swithun’s School. Had she passed, both myself and Alison would have probably been boarders. I drew the high street on my foundation course, with people flowing up and down, abstracting the lines until they all merge, or cross over each other. My au plein air effort catching the eye of someone, who said I could sell it. The dreams and love of books, were just beginning to emerge. Even just holding an old style book with yellowed pages, and words perhaps belonging to another century, unfolding as a person reads down revealing, the nature of a previous generation who perhaps had better manners, more sense, who knows! Catherine Cookson, often talked of an earlier period of history in her novels. John Fowles also has used history to illustrate a certain mood, or feeling perhaps a loss of moral interest. If humans do not have boundaries, to live by, perhaps, we all become less grace filled. There is much to note that a good education and upbringing, can be so much better, than, young people, not really emerging knowing their own mind’s worth. The cathedral at Winchester has a tall steeple, and a long history.  The center of town, is mainly pedestrianized, and has a Tudor feel in the beams, and small windows. I took a walk to the top of the highest point in the autumn, with my aging mother trailing beside, me, with my medium format borrow from the college. King Alfred, is said to be one of England’s first real kings. His statue is erect in the lower part of the high road, which is open to traffic, and the small black lanes, are visible from the distance. I like to think of this moment, as perhaps, one of the last times, my mother had a sensible conversation with me, with all her lucidity intact. There a lifetime, there something lost too. The climb up the hill took us both along a winding path of glorious orange/brown leave litter. And at the top, I was still this uneasy person who had tried for a life of expression, and visual art. I had longed for something, still uncertain of the end. Erecting the camera, on a tripod, and trying to pick the view, that might pass as an idea for a ‘Rough Guide to Britain’. This was an assignment, for a course I had started to refresh some of my lost art career. The Rough Guide’s was a real competition. I have files now, that need to be digitized, at some point, but, it too shows, me sometimes that although the new cameras are quick to process images, the film backs, have a slightly more natural appeal to the end product. My mother had lived through, two marriages, and had ended up, realizing, that she had regrets. We had had a drink in a local pub, and something to eat, it was one of those habits of our teens, that our working mother, a landlady, chose to on occasions eat out. It had become a habit. The best part of my life, had been the times, when life trotted past, the windows of restaurants. And sometimes, food, the very thing that sustains a person, the warmth of which had a  heartening element. Overwhelmingly, today’s society, is splitting into the haves and have not, groups and it is uncomfortable to realize, this. I have since that time, born a child into the world, and suffered his loss, and my mother, then had got ill, possibly from the shock. She had had strokes, and still wonderfully, for as long as she could, she had been a counselor, and a solid friend.

I have been typing this, and repeatedly the sign saying Windows Synchronization has stopped, kept bleeping and appearing, and I have to stop and close the window in which it appears. I take this as an intrusion. A form of harassment, and it simply could be, just the software. Or the back door elements. It is totally unsettling, that cached data, can be removed without a person knowing, and yet too, this is going to be published, so why the need? I am Jane Austen, I am Charlotte Bronte, I am Katherine Da Silva. I am concerned, people, think it is OK to hack.